The five-and-a-half-year-old baby doctor comes to the city to cure those who refuse to listen.

The old man's hands trembled like fallen leaves in the autumn wind, and the red, swollen blisters on the back of his hands looked painful.

He kept saying "It's nothing," but his face was contorted like a bitter gourd, and beads of cold sweat were dripping down his forehead.

The excruciating pain of mental backlash is a hundred times more deadly than being scalded by boiling water.

"Grandpa, are you really alright?"

Chu Chen looked up, his big eyes filled with worry, still clutching the empty teacup in his hand.

"Your hands shake even more than my grandfather's when he plays mahjong."

"I……"

The old man was about to say something when he felt a metallic sweetness rise in his throat, which he forced back down.

He took a deep breath, suppressed his churning blood, and forced a smile.

"It's an old problem; it always flares up on rainy days. It's nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about."

He was seething with hatred, but dared not show the slightest hint of ferocity in his eyes. He could only plot in his mind how to find another opportunity to strike.

This little brat is too weird.

"If you're sick, you should get treatment."

Chu Chen said with a serious expression, then turned around and shouted towards the backyard.

"Chief Zhao! Come quick! We've got work to do!"

Director Zhao?

What is that?

Just as the old man was wondering what was going on, he saw a burly man in coarse work clothes stride over from the backyard.

The man had an air of authority about him, but he was wearing a dirty apron and holding a toilet brush in his hand.

This combination looks weird no matter how you look at it.

"Sir, what are your orders?"

Zhao Wuji jogged up to Chu Chen and bowed respectfully.

Chu Chen pointed to the white-bearded old man.

"This old man's hands are shaking, can you heal him?"

Zhao Wuji was taken aback, then understood what Chu Chen meant, and then laughed enthusiastically.

"Okay!"

He tossed the toilet brush aside, rubbed his large, fan-like hands together, and walked toward the old man, making a "crackling" sound as he spoke.

"Sir, where do you feel unwell? Don't worry, I used to be a traditional hereditary massage therapist specializing in treating all kinds of difficult ailments. I guarantee I can cure you instantly!"

The old man looked at the burly man who was a head taller than him, felt a chill, and subconsciously took a step back.

"No...no need, I am a doctor myself..."

"Alas, a doctor cannot heal himself!"

Without saying a word, Zhao Wuji grabbed the old man's wrist.

That hand was like an iron clamp, gripping the old man so tightly he couldn't move.

"Sir, your blood and qi are not flowing smoothly, and your meridians are blocked. I'll clear them for you!"

As Zhao Wuji spoke, he placed his other hand on the old man's shoulder and exerted force with his five fingers.

"ah--"

The old man's scream was swallowed back down his throat; he felt a piercing pain in his shoulder, as if his bones were about to be crushed.

"Don't move, don't move! Where there is free flow, there is no pain; where there is pain, there is no free flow!"

Zhao Wuji muttered to himself, and increased the pressure on his hands, pressing and rubbing the acupoints on his back.

Each drop was accompanied by a crisp "crackling" sound.

The old man was in so much pain that tears and snot streamed down his face, his old face turned purplish-red, and his whole body was trembling like a leaf, yet he didn't even have the strength to beg for mercy.

Lin Jianguo watched in alarm and whispered to Chu Chen, "Xiao Chen, is this...is this treatment? Don't kill him."

Chu Chen slurped up his AD calcium milk and mumbled, "Don't worry, Grandpa, Director Zhao knows what he's doing. This is a unique physical therapy at Qianlongju, mainly focused on clearing the mind."

Just then, Yan Zhengqing, carrying an axe, also came over from the backyard.

He's been eating and sleeping well these past few days, and he's been chopping wood with great energy; his complexion has even become rosier.

He circled the old man who had been brutally murdered twice, stroking his chin with a scrutinizing expression.

"Old sir, I see that your forehead is dark and your head is green; this is a very bad omen."

Yan Zhengqing raised the axe in his hand and waved it in front of the old man; the sharp axe blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

"How about I 'bless' you? This axe of mine has been blessed, it's very sharp, I guarantee it will only take a moment, it won't hurt."

The old man was already on the verge of losing his mind from being pressed down, and when he saw the gleaming axe in front of him, he was so frightened that he almost fainted on the spot.

He rolled his eyes and finally managed to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth.

"I...I remember now...I have a secret medicine in my car...I...I have to go get it..."

He finally understood: this wasn't some kind of family of doctors; it was a complete madhouse!

From the old to the young, from masters to servants, not one of them was normal!

"Oh? Going to pick up the medicine?"

Chu Chen waved his hand, signaling Zhao Wuji to let go.

"Then hurry up, Grandpa Immortal, don't delay the treatment."

Zhao Wuji released his grip, and the old man immediately collapsed into the chair as if he had no bones, panting heavily.

He scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to grab his medicine box, and staggered out of the yard, muttering to himself.

"Goodbye...goodbye..."

Chu Chen didn't stop him, and just watched with a smile.

Lin Jianguo asked, somewhat puzzled, "Xiao Chen, are we just going to let him go like that?"

Chu Chen shook the AD calcium milk bottle in his hand and said calmly, "Grandpa, have you ever seen a mouse that gets caught in a mousetrap and still manages to escape?"

The old man rushed out of the courtyard gate, feeling as if he had escaped from the gates of hell.

He didn't dare look back, and kept his head down, running forward along the bluestone path.

As he ran, he felt something was wrong.

Why does this road look so familiar?

Why does that courtyard gate with the lanterns hanging in front look exactly the same as the one I just ran out of?

He looked up and was met with Chu Chen's smiling face.

Chu Chen sat on the stone lion at the entrance of the courtyard, his two short legs swinging back and forth.

"Grandpa Fairy, why are you back again? Did you forget something?"

The old man's face drained of all color instantly.

A ghost wall!

These three words instantly popped into his mind.

Without saying a word, he turned around, changed direction, and started running at full speed again.

This time, he deliberately chose to run along those narrow, secluded paths, running until he lost a shoe and was panting like a broken bellows.

After an incense stick has burned.

He returned to that familiar courtyard gate.

Chu Chen was still sitting on the stone lion, this time with a cucumber in his hand, which he was crunching away on.

"Grandpa Fairy, are you playing hide-and-seek with me?"

Chu Chen jumped off the stone lion and walked up to him. "You can't do this. You're too slow. I found you in no time."

"Who...who are you people?"

The old man completely broke down. He leaned against the door frame, his legs as weak as noodles, and his white coat was soaked with sweat.

The fog in the courtyard had thickened at some point, enveloping the entire Qianlong Residence, as if it were isolated from the world.

He only realized now that this was not ordinary fog at all, but an array!

Anyone capable of silently setting up an array of this level could not possibly be an ordinary person!

"us?"

Chu Chen tilted his head, the innocent smile on his face gradually disappearing, and his eyes turned cold and piercing.

He slowly walked to the stone table next to him, pulled out a grand chair, and climbed up.

His small body looked somewhat comical sitting in the large chair, but his eyes held an indifference like a god looking down on ants.

He took something out of his pocket, held it between his two chubby fingers, and held it up in front of the old man.

It was the shriveled corpse of a tiny insect, thinner than a hair.

"Grandpa, I think you dropped something."

Chu Chen waved the insect corpse in front of the old man's eyes, his voice childish yet chilling.

"This bug looks all black, but I bet it's high in protein."

He grinned, revealing a set of small white teeth, and smiled like a little devil.

"Why don't you try some?"